


Making the Best Out of a Dumb Situation

by wickedorin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, a little drunk kissing apparently, is cuddling a warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 14:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17184755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedorin/pseuds/wickedorin
Summary: Written for what ultimately turned out to be "Tumblr’s on Fire so I Have to Post These Before My Birthday Drabbles".  Request: "RavusxSafay, and drinking, and  neither of them are good at it."





	Making the Best Out of a Dumb Situation

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t manage to get to any smut, and the awkward cuddling almost gets glossed over, but I achieved something dammit.

Officially, the incident didn’t happen.   _Officially_. Reports  suggested that the security lock-down was a precautionary false alarm, and that  no one had been trapped within the deeper parts of the facility  itself.  
  
 _Unofficially_ , General Roth and High Commander Nox  Fleuret had merely happened to be walking opposite ends of the same hallway at  the same time, and conducted themselves like common untrained idiots.  They both should have simply exited on the side closest to themselves rather than darting toward one another to make certain the other was alright admidst the flashing red lights and siren, though an anonymous report would later complain about the  too-short amount of time between warning sirens and security doors closing and sealing.  
  
Off-record, they were trapped in one of the more unnerving hallways where certain kinds of MTs (which also officially did not exist) were occasionally tested, both finding themselves rather in need of ducking into one of the overall forgotten storage rooms to wait out whatever the hell was happening.  After securely barring the door with a bench, as was the first and  probably most reasonable instinct for the both of them, Safay moved on to the  second most important matter: rations.  Technically there were some packages of “something” in a locker without a lock, so old that all text indicating what was inside had worn off, making them more than a touch unappealing.  Food:  technically.  Moving on.  
  
Ravus seemed perfectly content to sit on the bench that hadn’t been used to insure that they would be separated from any wandering unofficial experiments, watching the general look through lockers  and avoid the very place that seemed most obvious: the vending machine.   They  both rather knew better than to believe there was anything of value there;  ravaged long ago and forgotten, never to be refilled.  
  
On the third to last locker on the bottom row, Safay stopped.  He stared for a good couple of seconds before reaching for the bottle, turned it over and read as if to make sure before holding it up for Ravus to see.  
  
Whiskey.  Hidden quite a  while ago, from the look of it, and the good sort.  Long forgotten and left to whoever was fool enough to–  
  
It was unlike him, Safay supposed.   To take what didn’t belong to him, first, and then to simply open it.  But then the sirens were only so dampened by the room they were in, and there  had been no building-wide alerts.  It wasn’t as if similar things hadn’t happened before, lasting hours by sheer incompetence alone, then stricken from  the record entirely.  He could already smell the alcohol rather strongly after opening the bottle, but he slowly moved it closer to his nostrils… and  attempted not to make a sound of disgust.  One one hand, he didn’t quite think he was cut out to indulge in these things, exactly, but on the  other…  
  
“We aren’t ridiculous teenagers having a sleep-over.”   Ravus hissed.  
  
“But we’re close enough.”  Safay did not present anything  akin to reason or logic, and he saw the mild surprise in his companion’s expression.  He was a bit surprised himself, but given their situation…  "No rules to break and no expectations to live up to if you technically aren't  involved it a situation that isn’t happening.“  
  
The look the high commander gave him passed through a number of emotions.  He couldn’t  afford to be so nonchalant about anything, particularly about his  present or his future, too much riding on his ability to survive–  
  
And then the siren, along with all of the lights save the flickering blue-white emergency lights along the edges of the ceiling simply  ceased to be.  Power failure.  
  
Even Safay couldn’t have seen that  coming, but in lieu of a sigh, he simply took a drink.  Then suppressed a much larger shudder than he’d expected of himself.  Yes, the "good” stuff was still… _not_ , in his opinion.  But that burning pain was settling into pleasant warmth.  Slowly.  Shame about the taste.  The moment Ravus opened his mouth to protest more loudly, he simply handed the bottle over.  
  
The high commander  blinked, stared, took another breath to admonish, then simply stopped when the  general ever so subtly gave the bottle a tip from side to slide, sloshing the contents around slightly.  It was ridiculous.  The whole situation was ridiculous, and dangerous besides.  But, staring up at the emergency lights,  their only light source, steadily dimming and then glowing more brightly in cycles, he suspected that was not a good thing.  And it very much probably was going to be a long night.  
  
Safay did not act in any was smug when Ravus  took the bottle from him, taking a gulp and then cursing vehemently under his burning breath.   There was gratitude for that; and a nearly imperceptible tilt  of his head in invitation.

 

* * *

 

Several hours later, they were   both woken by the sound of the intercom system undergoing checks.  Which was to say, there was a sudden bit of loud conversation because no one knew how to  properly work the damn thing, sending both men into a slight panic–  
  
And  realizing that they were rather entangled in one another.  Exactly what  had happened the night before might have escaped them, save Safay having a very clear mental portrait of Ravus laughing, and Ravus truly needing to  convince himself that not only had he convinced Safay to sing, but he did it  well.  They may have harmonized, in fact.  And they may have–  
  
“Oh.” The general’s voice was very, very soft.  They were both fully dressed due to the cold in the room, the heating system only just then  stuttering on.  He remembered the kiss, suddenly, but not who might  have been responsible.  He remembered them both shivering and drawing closer in  a chivalrous offer to keep the high commander warm… and attempting to deny a very unchivalrous desire to roll his hips.   Alcohol, it seemed, had a bit of  an unintended effect on him.   Particularly when consumed quickly and without food.  He winced at the thought.  
  
Ravus was blushing hot enough to keep the both of them warm without the heat, distinctly remembering the kiss, the way he’d clung to another human being who’d temporarily felt warm and safe if only for an evening.  But neither of them had exactly let go yet…  
  
“Attention all personnel.”  Came over the intercom, finally.  "I’m afraid half the work staff which would normally conduct re-capture and clean-up are on holiday, therefore hallways 8-A through 8-D are off-limits for the next… oh, six hours or so.  We’ll let you know.  You know the drill; whatever you hear, you  didn’t.  Happy Holidays.“  
  
The officers laid there together for a  number of moments in silence before Safay’s arms wrapped just a bit tighter around the High Commander.   "Let’s just finish sleeping this off.”


End file.
